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He looked at me and said
that before he existed
there were only thoughts of water
and when the world began, we
imagined how blue was and the
way that the sun was in the
sky and not in the sky, on our
faces. He told me that light became
real when he was born and that logic
had come to circle around on him now,
and he called them swirls and I imagined
the action like a wave, going around and
that it was purple and green with pieces
of yellow on the inside. Rods and
cones is what he said, that they
had been created in the garden of eden,
but perfected when I saw him for
the first time and he said that it
was the same for me now as what war
would be like for a young man, that
real images could loop and
make some not real and that it
may happen to me. Then he
walked away and drifted, like notes of
music would.

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